


Love You Better

by Emma (KarasunoShugoshin)



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 00:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3401948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarasunoShugoshin/pseuds/Emma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harklight is deeply in love with his precious master, Slaine-sama. However he holds no hope of his affections ever being returned. Meanwhile, newly elevated Count Slaine Troyard is becoming more and more aware of his loyal servant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love You Better

**Author's Note:**

> Set after ep. 16 and before ep. 17 of season 2, which is when I started writing it. I need to get this up ASAP before the writers of A/Z eff up the plot beyond all recognition.
> 
> There will be smut, eventually. It is already planned out. It will be very smutty. Gird your loins.
> 
> (3.13) New update, new rating. Smut is starting to creep in, but I still can't get them in bed yet. I haven't done any editing of the new section, yet, but I wanted to put it up ASAP before the new episode tomorrow screws my story up (more).
> 
> Also, thanks to Chaco for reminding me about the incredible sexiness of Hirarin's voice.

"Welcome back, Slaine-sama. Well done, as usual."

The newly minted Count Saazbaum Troyard smiled at the figure kneeling before him.

"Harklight, I've told you that you don't need to meet me in the docking bay every single time I go out, you know. And for goodness sake, I've told you even more times that you don't need to kneel before me when there aren't visitors."

"My apologies, Slaine-sama, but I only wish to honor you in the way you deserve."

Slaine smiled inwardly. This man was older than him, and a native Versian. Yet here he was, bowing to a Terran, a member of the "inferior race."

Slaine wondered why he didn't feel more smug about this. After all, there was a dark part of him that had brightened with vindictive glee when the other Orbital Knights had, grudgingly, saluted him after his most recent military victory. But there was something about Harklight's earnestness, his almost simpleton stubbornness to pay Slaine obeisance at every turn, which was endearing, and, if Slaine was to be completely honest with himself, somewhat annoying.

Well, he himself knew that pride cost nothing. It hadn't been so long ago that Slaine was bowing before Count Cruhteo and then Count Saazbaum, both of whom commanded his obedience but to neither did he truly give his loyalty.

But was it the same with Harklight?

Slaine had to admit that he had trouble reading his older manservant. His expression seemed ever-frozen on his face, only betrayed by the slightest movements of his eyes or twitching of his lips.

Why was he spending so much time thinking about a servant? Wasn't he a Count now? He'd debased himself to reach these heights. He had lied. He had killed.

But he couldn't help but remember his time as a servant. How much he had longed that Count Cruhteo could have turned those green eyes in his direction. If only someone had tried to see into his own soul. Perhaps he wouldn't have become so dependent on a princess who could not give her heart to him.

So, perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing that his thoughts kept drifting back to Harklight.

Harklight must have noticed something in Slaine's expression as they had walked in silence through the halls of the base, because he asked in his usual gentle voice, "is there something troubling Slaine-sama?"

"Eh? Ah. No. No, it's nothing." But Slaine's hesitancy only encouraged Harklight to continue.

"I-" the dark-haired man began. "I may not be able to understand everything Slaine-sama could be thinking, but whatever you may be on your mind, I'll listen to it. Ah!"

Harklight started. He hadn't considered that Slaine had been thinking about confidential military secrets that he couldn't possibly divulge to his servant. Harklight stammered, "I mean. I- I beg your pardon. If it's something you cannot discuss with me, I merely hoped to be of some use..." He trailed off, a blush rising in his cheeks.

Slaine stopped and turned to see Harklight bring the back of a gloved hand up to his mouth, a bright blush coloring his face.

He couldn't help himself. He laughed.

"Slaine-sama!" Harklight gasped, even more embarrassed.

"No. I'm the one who's sorry, Harklight. I'm just not used to anyone caring about my feelings."

For a moment, Slaine saw a darkness cloud Harklight's usually clear eyes. But it disappeared so quickly, Slaine thought he might have imagined it.

The young Count turned and began walking again. "I was thinking about the past," he began.

"About...the princess?"

 _What was that moment of hesitation about?_ Slaine wondered.

"Not...not exactly." Slaine began. "I was wondering if I ever served Count Cruhteo as attentively as you..."

Slaine heard a slight intake of breath. Or at least, he thought he had. When he turned to face his dark-haired servant, however, Harklight's face was as placid as always.

Maybe he imagined it.

Harklight smiled softly and bowed his head, resting his right hand upon his heart. "I am touched that Slaine-sama would see me as someone worthy enough to compare to himself."

Now if that wasn't a canned line, then Slaine would have to check if he wasn't a long-lost Versian Prince. He narrowed his eyes in Harklight's direction.

There was the tiniest movement of Harklight's downcast eyes.

 _Lying?_ Slaine wondered. No, that wasn't quite right, but the older man wasn't telling the full truth either.

 _He's hiding something from me_ , Slaine concluded. What could it be?

An alert over the base's intercom interrupted Slaine's thoughts, and he set them aside to consider later.

"Ah. It seems that the Council is requesting a video-conference with Slaine-sama."

Slaine sighed inwardly. Well, there was no avoiding that flock of old geezers, even if the universe would be better off if he drop-kicked the lot of them out the nearest airlock.

"Let's begin, Harklight."

The clicking of their heels against the polished floor echoed as Slaine and his enigmatic servant marched towards the base's audience chamber.

~*~

"I can't believe those conniving, boot-licking assholes."

Slaine raged as the entered his private quarters, violently yanking off his maroon uniform coat and tossing it carelessly over the nearest chair.

"Indeed, Slaine-sama." Harklight agreed solemnly.

The servant walked over to the chair and lifted his master's coat, carefully smoothing potential wrinkles between gloved fingers.

He looked up at Slaine, his eyes even, awaiting his master's call, but Slaine had already moved on to examine a document on his tablet.

Perhaps his master was able to quell his frustration at the rudeness of the other Counts with that minute outburst, but Harklight's heart harbored a violent storm.

 

Even after Slaine had landed a decisive blow to the Terran army's supply chain, the Council of Orbital Knights continued to voice doubts about the newly elevated ex-Terran's leadership abilities.

Harklight cursed his own powerless, remembering the fire rising from within his gut when one of the Counts had begun to insult his master.

Slaine had schooled his expression into a mask of extreme boredom as the curly-haired Knight had insulted Slaine's authority, trustworthiness, intelligence, and even, bizarrely enough, his hygiene.

But what had truly set Harklight's wrath alight was when the cretin began to imply that his master had a sexual relationship with his adopted father, Count Saazbaum, and Count Creuhto before him.

He had felt something snap inside of him as if someone had poured gasoline on one of those ancient Terran stoves. He felt the heat rising from his throat to his temples and he new that powerless or not, he could no longer stand by in silence.

Harklight had just begun to take a step forward when he noticed Slaine's eyes on him, warning him. The young Count Troyard, perhaps sensing Harklight's growing anger, had shifted his weight and looked sideways, bringing his hand up as if to examine his fingernails. He was a portrait of boredom, acting as if Count Marylcian was listing the different types of rock that could be found on Mars' surface rather than slandering his name. The shift in position, however, allowed Slaine to see his servant out of the corner of his eye and silently signal to Harklight that he should forget whatever retaliation he might be planning.

Harklight had felt incredibly embarrassed at that moment, but his embarrassment had also been combined with a feeling of deep admiration. Not only had Slaine-sama prevented Harklight from possibly making a bad situation worse, he had done so without even a gesture.

Truly, Slaine-sama was a man of true worth.

His master shifted again back towards the video-conference screen, now satisfied that his servant would stay put. Harklight allowed his eyes to turn towards the young Count.

His heavy-lidded blue eyes sparkled with intelligence even now as he feigned boredom for the benefit of Count Curly who would, surely–hopefully–run out of oxygen and end his odious rant.

Harklight felt, not for the first time, as if Slaine's eyes were like the Terran sky, vast, beautiful, and distant. If only he could have thought of them as limpid pools of water. Then he could have some hope of submerging himself in that blue. But Slaine-sama's eyes were surely like the sky, far out of his reach.

Clearly the other Orbital Knights were getting tired of Count Marylcian’s rant, if not because of its content, but because it was going on for so damn long. Two of the other Counts had interjected simultaneously.

"If we could please..."/ "I think it's time we should..."

There was a moment's hesitation as the Counts attempted to decide who should speak first, and true to his excellence, Slaine had swooped in at the opportunity to take charge of the meeting.

"If I could turn your Excellencies' attentions to...."

 

Harklight's reminiscing was interrupted by a sharp cough and then a small choking noise.

His eyes snapped to his master immediately.

Slaine was standing slightly bent at the waist, a glass of water in his hand, and a rising blush coloring his cheeks.

Apparently Count Troyard had not noticed that he had needed to sneeze until he was mid-sip and his attempts to suppress his body's natural reaction had only amounted to him almost choking on his drink.

"Slaine-sama!"

Harklight dropped Slaine's coat back on the chair and rushed over, deftly taking out a handkerchief.

Slaine threw up a hand to stop his servant.

 _*Cough* *Cough*_ "Oh for goodness sake, Harklight, I can take care of myself. It was only a sneeze."

In the moment their eyes met, Harklight felt something stir within him.

A deep blush had blossomed on Slaine's cheeks, more as a result of appearing like a careless child in front of his servant than because of his drinking mishap. Small tears had appeared in the corners of Slaine's eyes, and his lips were wet with the water that he hadn't managed to nearly choke on.

Harklight watched, frozen in place, as a tiny remnant of Slaine's drink escaped his mouth, dribbling over his soft lips and down the side of his chin.

It was only a second before Slaine had whipped out his handkerchief and dried his mouth, but the image of Slaine-sama's wet lips had already managed to burn itself into Harklight's mind.

 

"What?"

Slaine must have noticed that Harklight was staring.

"Harklight, really. I'm fine."

Harklight internally heaved a sigh of relief. Apparently Slaine-sama had misinterpreted his overly attentive gaze for concern and not for what it really was: pure, raw desire.

"Ah," Harklight began, but cleared his throat, desperately trying to shove away whatever feelings were surfacing. "I'm glad Slaine-sama is fine."

He turned away from his master, "I'll just go hang up your coat, Slaine-sama. It won't do for it to get wrinkled."

~*~

Slaine was glad Harklight had his back to him as he had left to the large walk-in closet that housed the new Count's stupidity prolific wardrobe.

 _It's just a dumb coat._ Slaine thought to himself. _Who cares if it gets wrinkled._

He was still annoyed at the "talking-to" he had received at the Council. It wasn't because of the insults. He was used to those. It was because Count Hot Air had gone on for so long, he hadn't been able to secure the transfer of all the technicians he would need for the next round of improvements on Tharsis.

He frowned, eyebrows knit together. He so wanted to rub his fingers against his temples, for all the good that would do.

His eyes wandered to the chair across the room, and then to the door to his dressing room where Harklight had just exited.

He sighed. He really shouldn't have thrown his coat so carelessly.

He felt a wave of shame wash over him.

He'd acted just like his old masters, hadn't he? Unthinkingly causing troubles for others over a minor frustration. After all, he knew what Harklight was like....

 

What had he been thinking about, earlier?

Oh yes, Tharsis.

Slaine cursed inwardly. The damn council. They still didn't understand that the Terrans were an actual threat. Sure, they were mere insects compared to the Versian military, but even a tiny insect could kill a buffalo.

Worse, Kaizuka Inaho was still alive, and Slaine would be damned if he was going to risk a fight with that prodigy without a fully kitted-out Kataphrakt.

Well, if official channels weren't going to work, he supposed he'd just have to go through unofficial ones.

He typed a few names into his tablet. Yes, this would work. Soon he'd have a newly upgraded Tharsis, and Harklight could have more victories to congratulate him....

 

Harklight?

Why had the older man suddenly appear in his mind?

Oh gods. That's right. He had managed to thoroughly embarrass himself in front of his servant.

 _And thank the gods it was only my servant_ , Slaine thought.

Still, how could an 18 year old boy–no, man–possibly fail to drink a glass of water?

Slaine felt a new blush rising to his cheeks.

He'd seen Harklight's widened eyes of shock and worry, and it had made him feel five thousand times like a bigger idiot than he already was.

But then, there had been something....else there.

 

Had there been?

Thinking back on his servant's expression, he wasn't sure anymore if he had really seen it. It was almost as if Harklight's eyes had changed color for a moment.

Slaine shook his head vigorously. He really needed to put thoughts of his servant from his mind. There were so many things to do.

He flipped to a new page on his tablet. There was a list of a number of specialist mechanics, each of their names accompanied by the name of the Knight they served.

When Harklight returned, Slaine would have him investigate the lot.

Speaking of which, where was his dark-eyed servant?

~*~

Harklight was having a moment. To be more accurate, he was freaking out.

After he had quickly hung Slaine’s coat on its appropriate hanger, he had retreated to the nearest corner of the dressing room and promptly rammed his forehead into the wall.

What the hell had happened back there?

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will the image of Slaine-sama’s wet lips and flushed cheeks out of his mind’s eye, but it was far too late.

Worse, there was the rapidly growing concern in his trousers that he was going to have to take care of, somehow.

The Versian military uniforms, for all of their elegance, were utterly useless at hiding an erection as insistent as the one currently worrying Harklight.

The dark-haired servant carefully slid his left hand down the front of his trousers, hoping to adjust himself. Or perhaps that had just been an excuse, since the moment he felt his palm brush his aching need over the thin fabric, he knew this wasn’t something to be solved by willpower alone.

He half-ran out of the dressing room, exiting through the far door–and thank goodness there was another door that did not lead back towards his all too observant master. Shutting the door quickly behind him, he leaned against it and slowly slid down until he was seated on the tiled floor.

He was in the large bathroom that adjoined the dressing room, one of the many luxurious conveniences afforded an Orbital Knight.

Another convenience, from Harklight’s point of view, was that it was he, Slaine’s personal manservant, who was in charge of all of the care and maintenance of the Count’s private quarters, so there was no worrying about someone else carelessly going through the laundry hamper.

He had to be quick.

Harklight removed his gloves, placing them carefully, one atop the other next to him. He shifted slightly, reaching for a towel from the shelves to his left. Then making quick work undoing his belt and unzipping his trousers, he wrapped both hands around his throbbing desire.

As he moved his palms over himself, Harklight felt his eyelids lower and his head fall back against the door.

The memory of Slaine’s gasping, blushing face reared up in his mind’s eye, and he turned his attention to each detail in turn.

He remembered those clear-blue eyes flooded, only momentarily, with tears; those pale cheeks dusted red with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment; and those wet lips….

Those lips, thought Harklight. He knew he shouldn’t be indulging in this fantasy. He knew he should be holding himself in check, keeping his mind as a proper servant ought to keep it.

But he just couldn’t.

He couldn’t help but imagine those soft, wet lips encircling him…

Harklight exhaled sharply through pursed lips as his hands moved faster, desperately pursuing release.

If only, instead of his hands, he was pushing into Slaine-sama’s delicate mouth. If only those tear-filled blue eyes were turned up to meet his own, darker ones.

If only that face he had seen could be just for him.

If only…

The mental image of Slaine sucking him was too much for Harklight, and it hardly took a few seconds before he came, violently, into the towel he had prepared for this reason.

Harklight paused for a few moments, curled over himself, forehead almost touching the floor, panting harshly.

A second later, he remembered where he was: that he was not only dallying in his duties to his master, but he was committing the disgraceful act somewhere he could be found.

He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, mentally thrashing himself for his baseness and lack of self-control.

Quickly cleaning up and shoving the dirtied towel to the very bottom of the hamper, Harklight put himself in order, carefully checking himself in the mirror to make sure there would be no evidence, even to the sharp eye of his master, that anything was amiss.

Seeing the success of his dissimulation in the mirror, he averted his eyes from his own reflection, embarrassed, once again, by his own weakness.

 _“I was wondering if I ever served Count Cruhteo as attentively as you…”_ Slaine had said to him earlier.

Harklight laughed bitterly to himself.

It was as clear as day that Slaine knew nothing of how deeply his servant desired him, or he would have never made such a comparison.

Harklight would never wish for Slaine to have served his former master in the way in which Harklight now served him. In truth, it was the one thing that Harklight knew he could never tolerate. For Slaine-sama to have desired Cruhteo the way that Harklight desired him. Just the thought felt to Harklight as if he had been wounded a thousands times, only to be brought back from the brink of death and wounded a thousand times again.

This is bad, the dark-haired servant thought to himself, as he pulled his gloves back on and brushed his bangs to the side. He walked briskly from the bathroom, through the dressing room, and back into the private office where Slaine was waiting for him.

This is really bad.

~*~

“Ah. Harklight. Excellent. I have some things for you that I need done.” Slaine looked up from his tablet as soon as the older man had re-entered the room.

Harklight appeared smoothly by his side and reached for the tablet Slaine held out to him.

How does he even do that? Slaine thought to himself. It often seemed as if his servant did not so much move, but glide. He was always so elegant.

Perhaps it was training: all of those years he had spent rising through the ranks of the Versian military in order to serve at the hand of an Orbital Knight. But, somehow, Slaine doubted it. Harklight’s graceful movements seemed far too natural to be the result of mere training.

And of course, there was his voice.

Sometimes, it was all Slaine could do to stop himself from shivering when he heard Harklight speak, especially like this, when he was so close.

It’s like silk. Slaine thought. As if silk could be sound.

“Slaine-sama?”

Harklight looked expectantly at Slaine, snapping the blonde out of his inner thoughts.

Slaine blinked. What was he…?

“Was Slaine-sama going to give this to me?” That silken voice asked carefully.

“What? Oh! Of course.”

Slaine hadn’t noticed that he had been in the middle of handing Harklight his tablet when he had become suddenly fascinated by his servant’s voice and motion.

Ugh. This was the second time Slaine had managed to embarrass himself in front of his servant.

If this went on, Harklight was sure to think that his master had lost his edge.

“Yes. I want you to contact these engineers and ascertain if there is a way to bring them to our side.” Slaine straightened quickly, lifting his chin with an air of authoritative competency. “Please see to it.”

He had spoken with a bit more sharpness than he had intended, but Slaine vowed to be more careful in his behavior with his servant. He was not a child, nor could he afford to allow any weaknesses to show, even before someone fully devoted to him.

After all, his ambitions to conquer Earth and establish a new order was precisely for those like Harklight, who had grown up amidst misfortune and misery, merely on account of their birth.

As his servant bowed low before him, and left to accomplish his assigned tasks, Slaine caught a hint of a smile on Harklight’s face.

Yes, he had to be resolute, or else that bow, that smile, and those devoted dark-eyes….well, he would not let them go to waste.

~*~

As Harklight marched smartly down the hall, he smiled again to himself.

Slaine-sama had….well, he wasn’t sure what had happened, but his master had recovered from a tiny lapse in concentration with a curt reply that Harklight could only describe to himself as cute.

Actually, Harklight mused, there were so many times that Slaine-sama couldn’t help but appear cute.

He recalled one moment when he had first begun working for Count Saazbaum, Slaine had accidentally trod on his foot. The young blonde had begun to apologize profusely only to catch the disapproving gaze of the Count, who had little patience for indulging his social inferiors. The newly Knighted Slaine-sama had muttered some sort of begrudging “you should watch where you’re going, soldier” while blushing all the way to the tops of his ears.

Had he begun to fall then? Harklight wondered.

There really never seemed to be a beginning for his affection for Slaine-sama. It was as if he had woken up one morning and realized that he had loved him all along.

And yet, as much as his love continued to grow, he knew he would never get any closer to its realization.

His master was in love with a princess; a princess who didn’t love him back.

As much as it hurt to admit it, he knew it was true. No matter how much Harklight wished to wrap Slaine-sama in his love, it was only the love of a princess, who was barely alive, suspended in some glorified test-tube that mattered.

Which was why that curly-haired Count’s accusations had shaken him so deeply.

There was something about Slaine’s unrequited love for Princess Asseylum that, as painful as it was, Harklight could accept. After all, of course a man of such quality as his master would court a princess. He might be a Terran, but as far as Harklight was concerned, Slaine had a nobler heart than any of the so-called nobles of Vers.

But to think that Slaine could have lain with…them…

Harklight paused in his walk towards the communications room, suddenly feeling the fiery wave of rage overtake him.

Worse than the rage, however, was the sickening feeling of jealousy.

After all, Harklight thought guiltily as he once again continued his journey. I’m just as bad as them, aren’t I?

If the old Counts had taken advantage of Slaine’s innocence, hadn’t he so many times in his thoughts, his dreams, and in the wee-hours of the morning curled up under the covers in the small bedroom that adjoined his master’s.

Lately it had gotten worse. Harklight thought back at his most recent indiscretion in the bathroom and was stricken with equal parts shame and worry.

Sneaking away to relieve his tension was hardly a viable solution, but there was also no way his master wouldn’t notice if he got a hard-on while in his presence.

Harklight knew that it was only a matter of time before Slaine found out, but no matter what excuses, strategies or justifications Harklight thought up, he knew his master was clever enough to see through them all.

Someday, and it would surely be sooner than later, Slaine would discover Harklight’s impure desire for his master, and it would be all over.

Perhaps Slaine would kill him. Harklight was all right with that. In many ways, to be killed by one’s loved one was preferable even to falling in battle.

But what he was truly afraid of was that Slaine would dismiss him, and send him far, far away. Not only would he never see his beloved ever again, but he would be an object of contempt in Slaine’s mind, a traitor and a low-life.

The thought often kept Harklight up at night. It was the fear that drove him to hide any emotions from his face when he was around his master.

But Harklight was no fool. He knew it was useless to lie to himself. He loved Slaine, loved him more than he could ever hope to hide. All he could do was stay with his beloved master as long as he could, and then accept whatever fate had in store for him.

~*~

Slaine tapped his fingernail against the dining room table, becoming mildly irritated, yet again, that his servant was so damn hard to read.

Harklight had performed masterfully as usual, easily securing the technicians Slaine needed for his Tharsis upgrades through a mixture of persuasion, veiled threats and promises of future influence to the various Orbital Knights who held sway over Kataphrakt production and technology, or at least to whichever of their underlings was truly in charge of the actual operations.

Slaine felt that he had adequately conveyed his gratitude, and yet, Harklight seemed morose, and somewhat….was it worry?

Harklight had been reading off from a news communication from the Versian homeland, catching Slaine up with whatever current events might have a bearing on their future missions.

Slaine moved his hand from the table to his chin, and rubbed it absent-mindedly. He wasn’t so much listening to the news as allowing Harklight’s comforting voice to wash over him, helping ease his mind.

“You know, Harklight,” Slaine interrupted. “Why won’t you join me for dinner once in a while? It always seems so awkward to eat while you’re still working.”

“You know I can’t do that, Slaine-sama.” Harklight almost sighed.

“But, why not?” Slaine persisted. “I really like your company, and we already spend enough time together that we really ought to be over this whole master-servant business, shouldn’t we?”

Harklight smiled in a way that made him look as if he was genuinely touched by Slaine’s words. He bowed, “I truly appreciate the sentiment, Slaine-sama. But, I must still, however, refuse.”

“Stingy.” Slaine pouted.

This time Harklight’s smile was one of pure mirth.

Slaine giggled a bit and smiled back. Seeing Harklight genuinely happy had made Slaine’s heart jump in a way he hadn’t felt for a long time.

He hadn’t really realized it until now, but Harklight’s smile–his real smile–was really something…special. It wasn’t just about its rarity, although in truth, Harklight really only smiled when the two of them were alone. Of course Slaine wasn’t so full of himself to think that Harklight only smiled around him, but at least when Harklight was with him, Slaine had never observed the older man smile when someone else was in the vicinity.

There was something about Harklight’s smile that was important to the two of them. It was as if, for at least a moment, Slaine and Harklight were just two regular people enjoying each other’s company, not master and servant caught in the twisted web of Versian social relations or tired soldiers fighting a seemingly endless war.

Harklight waited patiently as Slaine gazed at him. It seemed that neither of them really wanted the moment to end, even though it surely would.

Suddenly, Slaine saw the tiniest instance of apprehension cloud Harklight’s face, as if the man had remembered some piece of bad news that brought him crashing back to reality.

Slaine blinked, meaning to ask Harklight if something was wrong, but in that instance the dark-haired servant had carefully schooled his features back into the state of impassive politeness that he usually wore.

“Slaine-sama,” he cleared his throat. “If you’re finished with your dinner, would you like me to order a bath?”

“Yea. That sounds like a good idea.” Slaine replied, somewhat disappointed that Harklight’s face had closed off to him again.

~*~

Inside the space of his mind, Harklight was panicking.

Here he was in the bathroom where he had earlier done that…deed, taking Slaine’s bathrobe off his shoulders, as the blonde slipped into the massive claw-foot bathtub in the center of the room.

Of course, Harklight had seen Slaine naked before, but as his desire for his master continued to grow, the more treacherous the sight had become.

Still, he admitted to himself, as difficult as it was for him to keep his composure at the sight of Slaine’s beautiful body in this state of undress, he was thankful for the opportunity nonetheless.

Indeed, Slaine was beautiful. Well, perhaps by conventional standards, it wasn’t. His pale skin was covered almost from the base of his neck to his ankles with scars, darkened pink lines of hardship from the various tortures and wounds he had endured to reach these heights. But while a delicate Versian maiden might consider these stripes ugly, in Harklight’s eyes, they only added to his master’s beauty.

Harklight blinked. He really needed to stop thinking about Slaine’s body if he was going to make it through the young Count’s daily bathtime without losing his mind.

Right. He had to focus on the task at hand.

“Ah, Slaine-sama. May I help you wash your back?”

“Mmmm. That sounds nice.” Slaine turned his head to look up at his servant, who brandished a loofah in one hand.

He always looks the same, doesn’t he? Slaine thought to himself. Whether he’s holding a tablet of launch codes or a loofah. Always so damn competent, ready to do the job.

A grin appeared on Slaine’s youthful face, already flushed because of the heat of the water.

The blonde let out a muffled laugh.

Harklight drew himself up, feeling bewildered at this sudden reaction. His eyes darted from side to side. “Am I amusing, Slaine-sama?”

At his servant’s slightly offended tone, Slaine couldn’t help but let out a full laugh.

“Harklight, you’re always so devoted to every job, no matter how insignificant.” Slaine made another amused sound through closed lips. “Even when washing my back.”

Harklight shot him an unamused look.

Slaine couldn’t help but push the envelope. He sat up on his haunches, halfway out of the water, and leaned over the edge of the tub to pull himself up closer to his servant. “Well, why don’t you join me? Goodness knows this bathtub is big enough for two people-”

“I think Slaine-sama already knows my response.” Harklight interrupted stiffly, closing his eyes. “Now, please turn around.”

Slaine paused, looking up at his servant’s face. Sometime was going on. He knew Harklight was certain to refuse his invitation, but wasn’t there something particularly terse about his response?

“Stingy,” Slaine muttered under his breath, for the second time today, and faced away from Harklight.

As he felt Harklight’s fingers on his left shoulder, and the loofah, doused with some kind of soap that smelled of lavender and vanilla, run across the skin of his back, Slaine narrowed his eyes in thought.

There was definitely something going on with Harklight that he didn’t fully understand. While Harklight had always been overly polite, as long as he had known him, Slaine felt that today, his servant’s usual politeness seemed more pointed than usual.

It was odd, really. They had a good rapport between them, and Slaine would often insist on pushing the boundaries of etiquette. After all, inviting Harklight to dine with him was an almost daily occurrence. It was almost like a fun little ritual between the two of them. Slaine would tell Harklight to join him, and Harklight would refuse. It was a joke they both enjoyed.

So why earlier, did it seem like a shadow had suddenly fallen over Harklight’s face?

And now this. Sure, Slaine didn’t often invite Harklight to bathe with him, but it happened frequently enough that surely the servant shouldn’t have been bothered by it.

Yes. There was something going on today. Something about Harklight was different.

Argh. Why was the older man so hard to read? Slaine thought to himself, thoroughly frustrated.

He must have stiffened his muscles involuntarily, because Harklight paused mid-scrub. Slaine looked over his shoulder and smiled, rolling his shoulders carefully, silently indicating that he was just working out a bit of stiffness and that Harklight should continue.

As Harklight began to move the loofah lower on his back, Slaine pondered, again, why it was that his servant was so difficult to read.

But he wasn’t really, was he? After all, he was horridly expressive whenever anyone was talking to Slaine.

In fact, that expressiveness was beginning to be a problem. He had been lucky to sense Harklight’s growing anger at Count Marylcian during Orbital Knight conference, before things had gone South.

Slaine mentally shivered. If Harklight had said something he would have been forced to discipline his servant. There was no way the Orbital Knights would overlook an outburst like that go without, again, questioning Slaine’s leadership abilities.

But even just the idea of rebuking Harklight made him sick to his stomach. If felt like kicking a puppy, or worse.

After all, Slaine knew exactly what it felt like to endure pain for a beloved someone.

He wouldn’t, he couldn’t put someone else through that.

“Slaine-sama,” Harklight whispered behind him. Slaine nearly gasped at the sound of Harklight’s melodious voice near his ear. “You shouldn’t stay in the bath too long, or the hot water might irritate your scars.”

“My scars?” Slaine was at a loss for a moment, his interrupted thoughts scattered.

“Oh, that reminds me, Harklight. Princess Lemrina gave me some sort of ointment for them. I put the jar on the nightstand. It’s pretty pointless, but it would probably be rude to not at least try it. Will you help me with it?”

“Of course, Slaine-sama.”

Slaine stepped out of the bath and accepted the towel Harklight passed to him, along with allowing his servant to drape the bathrobe over his shoulders.

Slaine ran the towel lazily over his head. Between the hot water, and Harklight washing his back, he was feeling pretty relaxed, and wanted to get in bed as soon as possible.

He turned on his heels and walked out the bathroom door into his bedroom. Harklight following right behind, dressing gown draped over an arm.

When his dark-haired servant began to move to the chair where he usually dried Slaine’s hair, the young Count Troyard, stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“I want to sit on my bed while you dry my hair. It’s more comfortable.”

He saw Harklight hesitate, but he had made up his mind, and before his servant could voice any complaints, he pulled his dressing gown out of Harklight’s grasp and marched stubbornly towards his bed. His servant really didn’t have much choice but to follow.

\-- つづく\--


End file.
